


Spanking

by mourninghope (orphan_account)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bottom Isaac Lahey, Daddy Kink, M/M, Spanking, Top Stiles Stilinski, implied polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 04:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6141010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/mourninghope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isaac comes home after a long day, keyed up, uncertain and ashamed.  Stiles helps him unwind in the only way he can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spanking

Stiles flopped onto the couch, knees spread wide in a comfortable sprawl. He patted the couch cushion and then his denim clad thigh, smiling when Isaac crawled up onto the leather monstrosity. 

Hesitantly, the brunette stretched out, hooking his feet over the arm of the couch as he settled on his stomach; he pressed his cheek into Stiles’ thigh, the back of his head resting lightly against the taut line of Stiles’ abdomen. He sighed when Stiles sunk long, agile fingers into his curls, stroking and tugging at them gently. 

“Long day,” Stiles asked, stroking his thumb along Isaac’s hairline until the pad of it settled against the pulse point behind his ear. 

“Longest.” Isaac inhaled, slow and deep through his nose, then let the air out in a rush through pursed lips. 

“Sucks.” Humming thoughtfully, Stiles smoothed the index finger of his free hand up and down the patrician arch of Isaac’s nose. 

Isaac agreed wordlessly, rolling his head to rub his nose against Stiles’ thigh. “Missed you,” he murmured, words muffled by the denim beneath his lips. 

“Missed you more,” Stiles returned. His breath hitched as Isaac’s nose traced the outline of his quiescent cock. Gently, Stiles fisted Isaac’s curls and shifted his weight until plush, pink lips were spread wide over the head which twitched, pushing up to meet Isaac’s shaky exhale. 

“Tell me what you need baby boy,” Stiles demanded, voice rough as he tugged on Isaac’s curls, hauling his head up and away. 

Isaac whined, fingers clenching against the couch as he met Stiles’ hooded gaze. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip and he flushed, eyes going wide and uncertain. “I… I don’t know,” he whispered, swallowing thickly. 

Nodding, Stiles used his hold on Isaac’s hair to maneuver the other up and onto his knees. “Hm. I think, maybe, that I do.” Stiles paused, released Isaac’s hair, and cupped the trembling teen’s cheek. “Go to your room and take off your clothes. I’ll be up in a minute. Okay?” 

“Y-yes. Yeah.” Isaac scrambled to his feet and turned, stumbling dazedly to the stairs. 

Stiles stretched hard and dropped his hand to his lap, lazily palming his cock while he mentally counted out the time. At 50 seconds he stood and headed up the stairs. He found Isaac in his freakishly clean room as ordered. He was standing naked, back to the door, in the exact center of the round throw rug at the foot of his neatly made bed. 

“Such a good boy,” Stiles crooned, pausing in the doorway. He leaned casually against the jamb and studied the way the light from the skylight played across Isaac’s back, highlighting the twitch and shiver of muscle beneath his pale, perfect skin. “Turn round for me, baby boy.” 

Isaac turned slowly, his hands lax at his sides despite the tension knotting his shoulders. As he moved, dust swirled in the sunlight, giving him an ethereal glow. His eyes were bright as he met Stiles’ dark gaze and his stomach quivered with every panting breath. His slim, graceful cock lay soft and easy between his slender thighs. 

“Beautiful.” Smiling, Stiles pushed away from the doorjamb and stalked to Isaac. He gently pressed his palm to the center of Isaac’s chest, groaning at the feel of Isaac’s heart beating sure and steady, if a little fast, beneath his hand. 

Isaac smiled, his lips crooking shyly as he ducked his chin. “Thank you, Sir.” 

“Go get your collar.” Stiles dropped his hand and rubbed it idly against his thigh as Isaac darted clumsily to his dresser. 

Reverently, Isaac pulled a slim black box from the top drawer and set it down gently before pulling an inch thick strap of black leather, lined with pale rabbit fur from inside. The heavy silver buckle clicked and clacked quietly as he returned to the rug. He sank easily to his knees and held the collar up to Stiles. 

Smiling, Stiles touched the bottom of Isaac’s hands, urging the teen to bring the leather to his own throat, which he did swiftly, bowing his head as Stiles grasped the ends of the collar and buckled it snuggly. He exhaled softly as all the tension seeped from Isaac’s shoulders and the teen settled comfortably, his ass resting against his heels and his hands dropping to rest against his palms. 

“There we go, baby boy.” Stiles stroked the curls at the base of Isaac’s skull. His cock twitched as Isaac lifted his chin, pressing his head into the warm curve of Stiles’ palm. 

“Thank you, Sir,” Isaac whispered, smiling dreamily. 

“You know I’d do anything to make you happy,” Stiles’ replied, stepping back. “So. I know your day was long but I get the feeling that maybe you did something naughty today. Am I right?” 

“Yes, Sir.” Isaac nodded and his smile became a full-lipped petulant pout. “It wasn’t my fault. Scott was ignoring me and I didn’t like it.” 

“Huh.” Smirking, Stiles grabbed the chair beside the dresser, settled it in front of the rug, and sat down, crossing his long legs. “What did you do?” 

“I uh…” Isaac huffed, chewing his lower lip briefly as he regarded Stiles through lowered lashes. “I bit him.” 

“You bit him?” Stiles bit the inside of his cheek and drummed the fingers of his right hand against his knee; he rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand. 

“More like I gnawed on him, really. Left a hicky. Kira didn’t think it was funny.” 

“I bet not.” Huffing out a sharp breath, Stiles dropped his foot to the floor and pressed the toe of his sneaker against Isaac’s knee. “That was pretty naughty baby boy.” He leaned forward and caught Isaac’s chin in a firm grip. “But I don’t think that’s all you did. You wouldn’t have been so upset if you had.”   
“Well… He hit me.” Squirming, Isaac pressed into Stiles’ palm. “And um. I um… I hit him back, daddy.” 

“You hit, Scott,” Stiles asked slowly, fingers tightening. “Let me get this straight, baby boy. Scott was talking with Kira and not giving you any attention so you got jealous and tried to get his attention in a rather immature manner. This irritated Kira and Scott hit you. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, Isaac, but Scott probably just whapped you on the arm, not even hard enough to sting. Am I right?” 

“Yes, S-sir.” Isaac swallowed hard. 

“And you hit back with more force. Punched him maybe?” 

“Yes, daddy,” Isaac whispered, the words shaky. 

“I see.” Stiles stood abruptly, releasing Isaac’s chin. “I’m disappointed, baby boy. I’m actually kind of angry. I imagine they are too. We’re supposed to talk things out when we get jealous, not act out.” Sighing, Stiles stalked around Isaac. He stood behind the now trembling teen as he unbuckled his belt and drew it slowly through the loops on his jeans. His heart rate kicked up at the way Isaac’s body sagged, releasing the tension that had knotted him up again. 

Stiles folded the belt in half and smacked it against his palm, smiling at the low groan that escaped Isaac’s throat. He turned and laid it on the foot of the bed, then sat down. “C’mere, baby boy,” he crooned gently, patting his thighs. 

Isaac turned on his knees and crawled to Stiles, pressing his cheek against one denim clad knee. He shuddered when Stiles ran fingers through his curls, whined when those same fingers tangled in the back of the collar and pulled. He scrambled gracelessly to obey the unspoken command and draped himself across Stiles’ widespread knees. 

“There we go.” Stiles snugged an arm around Isaac’s slim waist and pulled him in tight. “I am going to spank you, first with my hand and then five with the belt. He stroked his palm over the taut, silky flesh of Isaac’s ass, thumb skimming down the clenched line between his cheeks. “I will tell you before I start with the belt and you’re going to count them out for me, okay, baby boy?” 

Isaac squirmed, his cock jerking helplessly against the side of Stiles’ thigh. “Yes, daddy,” he whispered, voice breaking. 

“Good boy.” Stiles continued to gently stroke and pet Isaac’s ass, one cheek and then the other, warming the skin. Without warning he lifted his hand away and brought it down in a hard smack just above Isaac’s testes, his palm reddening both cheeks. He pinched Isaac’s perineum before the teen even registered the first smack and then began to pepper his upturned ass with a series of hard and soft blows until Isaac was a writhing, incoherent mess and his cock was leaking heavily. 

Stiles, breathing hard, rested his hand against Isaac’s pink ass, thumb pressing between his cheeks to rub over his hole. “Such a good boy for daddy. I’m going to use the belt now. Do you remember what I told you?” 

Swallowing hard, Isaac pressed his flushed cheek against the duvet, panting. “I… I need to count them for you, daddy.” 

“That’s right. If you miss a count,” Stiles murmured, his thumb pressing and retreating again and again, “you’ll get another swat.” 

“I understand, daddy,” Isaac whispered. 

Shivering, Isaac pressed closer to Stiles’ stomach, one hand clutching at the duvet, and the other at Stiles’ pant leg. “I love you, daddy.” 

“I love you too, baby boy,” Stiles murmured, picking up the belt. He trailed the cool leather over Isaac’s balls and up, over the round, red globes of his ass. “I love you so much,” he assured as he lifted the belt away and brought it down sharply. 

Isaac hiccupped and yelped. “One!”  
He shuddered through the second hit, hips dancing up into the blow and then away, hard cock driving into Stiles’ leg. “Two!”

He sobbed, tears running down his face as the third hit licked the lower curve of his ass, the leather perilously close to, but so far from, his testes. “T-t-three! Daddy!”

“Almost done, baby,” Stiles murmured, stroking the belt over the welts rising angry and red. Inhaling deeply, Stiles landed two sharp, precise blows that bowed Isaac’s back. 

Keening, Isaac shouted out the last two, his cock jerking, and his release soaked Stiles’ jeans. He scrambled, suddenly, to the floor between Stiles’ thighs, fingers clawing at the button fly of Stiles’ jeans. 

Breath ragged, Stiles dropped the belt and leaned back, pressing his hands against the duvet as Isaac pulled him from his jeans and pressed languid, open mouthed kisses to his throbbing cock. 

“Fuck!” Stiles hips bucked, smearing a wet line across Isaac’s cheek, his cock pulsing with the rapid beat of his heart. “On the bed, baby. Get on the bed,” he demanded roughly, hips rutting up as Isaac licked down his shaft. “Daddy wants to fuck your pretty red ass… Please,” Stiles whined. He gasped as Isaac obeyed, crawling onto the bed to kneel all creamy and flushed on the black duvet. 

“Please, daddy,” Isaac moaned, pressing his cheek against the cool cotton, his hips stirring restlessly. 

Stiles stood shakily and walked to the nightstand. He grabbed the lube, then settled behind Isaac and coated his fingers. He groaned when Isaac parted his red, throbbing cheeks to reveal his tightly furled, twitching hole. “So pretty, baby. Daddy’s gonna fuck you until you get hard again,” Stiles promised dropping a kiss to the dip of Isaac’s spine as he forced his slick thumb inside Isaac’s body. 

Patient, despite his raspy breathing, Stiles worked Isaac open until his hole was shiny, slick, and gaped hungrily. Denim rough against Isaac’s thighs, Stiles notched the thick head of his cock against the grasping hole and pressed in and in and in until he was draped over Isaac’s back, his fingers biting bruises into pale skin. He pushed Isaac flat and drew out slowly, scraping his nails lightly down the pale flanks as he sat up to stare at the way Isaac opened to him, swallowed him as he pushed forward slowly. “Such a good boy for daddy,” Stiles rasped, hips jerking helplessly as he began to pound in and out of Isaac’s body, the teen pliant and mewling beneath him. 

Four, then five long thrusts and Stiles’ collapsed, pressing his face against Isaac’s throat as he came, hips rolling almost helplessly. He kept moving in slow rolls as Isaac tensed and shuddered beneath him, crying out “daddy!” in a broken, keening cry. 

“I love you so much,” Stiles whispered, rolling them to their sides, his softening cock clenched tight inside Isaac’s body. Stiles stroked gentle hands down Isaac’s chest, fingers carding through the hair at his groin until his palm rested gently over Isaac’s limp, sticky cock. “So much.” 

Isaac smiled drowsily and pressed his palm over Stiles’, nestling more tightly against the other’s chest. “I love you too, Stiles. Thank you. Thank you, Sir. Daddy,” he murmured.


End file.
